


A Bridge Over Troubled Water Part 1

by livvels1012



Series: A Bridge Over Troubled Water [1]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Camp Camp - Freeform, F/M, Fluffy, Hurt/Comfort, Maxvid shippers don't interact, MomGwen, Warning for mention of terminal illness, Warning for mentions of parental death, Warning for minor blood content, dadvid, minor mentions of child abuse/neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-31 23:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvels1012/pseuds/livvels1012
Summary: When Max sustains a seemingly minor injury during camp shenanigans, he has no choice but to let David and Gwen help him. But when it takes a turn for the worse, David is forced to rush him to the hospital, leading to him learning the condemning truth of just how little Max's parents do to look after him. Vice versa, Max ends up a little enlightened to David's own family and childhood. Part one of a series.





	A Bridge Over Troubled Water Part 1

_ I’m okay, I’m okay. It’s not even that bad. Barely even hurts-- _   
  
“Mother  _ fucker!” _ Max interrupted his own inner mantra as he finally bit the bullet and yanked his shard out of his heel, despite Nikki and Neil screaming behind him in horror to just leave it alone. His hand was shaking, the glass piece covered in red for about half an inch. The sole of his foot was throbbing red-hot and he could see his skin tinged a dark orange and red from the blood smears around the puncture.    
  
“Max, are you okay?” Neil began, but Max just tossed the shard near the rest of the shattered beaker. Rough housing around Neil’s ‘equipment’ was ill advised in general, and it was only a matter of time before it ended in disaster. Max just thought it would be funnier when it did. “It’s fine,” he insisted, sucking a breath through his teeth. “Barely a scratch.”   
  
He started to wobble up to his feet and growled as Nikki hauled him up the rest of the way by his arm. “I gotcha!”   
  
He swatted her away instinctively, balancing on one foot. The second he put it down on the ground, it felt like stepping on that shard all over again and he scrunched up his face to try and hide the anguish. “See?” he said, his voice smaller and higher than he would have liked. He was having trouble keeping balance, and he wasn’t able to turn at the sound of rapidly approaching boots behind him. The sound of the table being overturned definitely got some attention, and he subconsciously rolled his eyes as he heard Gwen demand, “What the hell did you guys do now?”   
  
“We broke everything!” Nikki exclaimed.   
  
Max saw them both in his peripheral, first Gwen moving to lift the table up and shoo the others away. “Get out of here, there’s glass everywhere.”   
  
“Yeah, no shit.” Max said, shakily reaching down to pick up his shoe. As Gwen turned to retort him, she saw his blood soaked sock on the ground and the red between his toes. He could swear for a second she looked scared, but he was sure he just imagined it. “What?” he asked sharply. “Stop staring at me, creep.”   
  
“Did you step on any?”    
  
“Yeah? I was just gonna rinse it and get a band aid, it’s not that bad.”   
  
“No, you’re not. Go see David.”   
  
_ I would literally rather step on glass again.  _ Max cocked back his hand, ready to chuck the shoe at her, “Like hell!” he shouted.   
  
“Max, you need first aid. Don’t make me carry you. You know I can.” Gwen stepped forward, threateningly holding her hands out towards him and he did throw the shoe this time. “Don’t you dare, bitch!” he snarled, taking a few steps back before his knee gave out, trying to relieve pressure. He held it, leaning on the other foot and hissing, “Ow, ow,  _ ow… _ ”   
  
Gwen took a stomp towards him, grabbing him under the arms before he could bolt and he kicked out, yelling. “I will  _ MURDER  _ you!” 

But she was bigger and faster, and locked an arm over his chest, dangling him like a disgruntled cat. He was just making a string of feral noises and curses, trying to wriggle free as Nikki and Neil snickered at the sight of Gwen hauling him off helplessly.  _ There will be recompense for this _ .   
  
He was still trying to bend his head down far enough to bite her (harder than it looked) when they got to the door and she had to set him down to open it. He made a break for it, but three steps and he went down, knee crashing in the door. “Are you done?” she deadpanned, looking at him from the door. “I can just cut your foot off if you’d rather, save you the trouble.”   
  
“Is that a genuine offer?” he asked. But he decided to just suck it up this one time. Let David mother-hen him, break out whatever graphic cartoon band aids he had so he could feel like he was actually halfway decent at his job. Better than Gwen hunting his ass down. So, he hauled himself upright and limped the five feet to the door and Gwen held it open for him.    
  
Dirt was packed in the wound, but it still left a dot of red on the wood as he took two steps inside. David looked up from his desk with that  _ stupid  _ clown grin, “Hello, Gwen an--” but stopped short as he seemed to realize the state of Max. The boy shifted uncomfortably, not liking of genuine fucking worry David was staring at him with. The counselor hopped up from his chair and rushed over, taking him by the arms and leaning down to his height. “Aw, fuck,” he muttered.  _ Here we go _ .    
  
“Max, what happened? You’re hurt!”   
  
“He stepped on some broken glass,” Gwen clarified, walking around David to grab the first aid kit from the cabinet and setting it on the desk.    
  
“Glass? Jeez, you poor--”   
  
“Up-bup-bup!” Max shoved David back and pointed at him, geared up to dodge any more displays of physical concern. “Stop right there! I’m not a little bitch, I can handle a tiny cut!”   
  
“Yeah, but-- glass hurts. Like, a lot.”    
  
“How would you know?”   
  
“Have you met me, Max? I’m a little accident prone,” David chuckled, gesturing to the scar on the back of his hand and scraped knees, and the general long history that was David getting the shit kicked out of him by fate. Max wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had a point. And it did hurt, really bad. It burned like hell. “Come on, I’ll get it taken care of quick and get you out of here before you know it.” his counselor told him, nudging him over to the chair. Max gingerly climbed into it and David took a seat across from him, taking his ankle to look at the sole of his foot.   
  
Max winced, pressing his lips together in a thin line as David gently felt around it with a focused look in his eyes. “Well, at least there’s no pieces stuck in there.” he said with a smile, patting Max’s foot. “This part is going to suck, though. But you’re one tough cookie, I’m sure it’ll be no biggie for you.”   
  
“Don’t patronize me, David.”   
  
“Course.” He said, picking up a white bottle and some cotton balls. The antiseptic smell made Max wrinkle his nose and he clenched his hands around the frayed cuffs of his sleeves as David carefully but quickly began to clean his foot up. It felt cold, and he was just getting all the dirt and blood smears off. Then he took a new one and actually began to clean the cut. The second the alcohol touched the wound, Max tried to yank his foot back. “That burns, asshole!” and he was surprised that his ankle didn’t budge in David’s grip, who just finished the task regardless of the squirming and yelling kid. “I know,” he said patiently, letting it go once it was done to pick up another tube of anti bacterial ointment. He even put on one of the sanitary gloves to put the cream on the cut, then bandaged it lightly but securely. “There! Not so bad, right?”   
  
“I guess,” Max mumbled, flexing his foot. It hurt, but it was throbbing less now. “Can I go?”   
  
“Let me get you a clean sock and stuff first. Better stay off your feet for a bit while it closes up, okay?”   
  
“I will if I get to use your T.V and you get the fuck out.”   
  
“Deal.”   


* * *

After a day of vegging out in David’s arm chair and getting to fucking be alone for once, although David did insist he’d have to dress his foot again tomorrow, Max was ready to just crash. He was a thousand miles outside of his comfort zone, being fussed over and catered to by a very obviously worried David who was failing at not seeming worried.    
  
Max could remember once, he had fallen out of bed at night and cracked his elbow on the floor. He’d been...seven? Maybe littler? And wandered into his parents room crying about it, cradling his arm. He tried to tell his mother what had happened but she never said a word. His father yelled something he couldn’t recall and then she stomped out of bed to him, shoved him out of their room and slammed the door in his face, locking him out. His own  _ mother  _ wouldn’t even get her ass out of bed long enough to make sure he was okay. He had gotten used to tending his own bumps and bruises, he preferred it. He didn’t want anyone seeing him hurt.

But David had dropped everything in a heartbeat to fawn over him.    
  
And Max hated that there was a teeny, tiny, itty bitty  _ barely existent _ part of him that was happy he did, that someone gave a shit.  _ I don’t need my booboos kissed _ ,  _ I’m not six anymore, _ he thought angrily and slid down out of the chair. He wasn’t going to get in the habit of being dependent on someone temporarily in his life. Max tugged on his sock and shoes as carefully as he could, and left the T.V running as he peeked out of the cabin. Seeing no counselors, he made the trek back to his tent and scurried in before anyone had the chance to confront him. He kicked off his shoes and wrestled his hoodie off, shoving them under the bed and crawling under the covers.    
  
He retrieved his bear from under the bed and concealed it in his arms under the blanket, curled up around it with his eyes closed. He wanted to appear asleep by the time Neil got back to avoid questioning, but actually did fall asleep before he even got back.    
  
The following day, Max went out of his way to avoid David, but not like he usually did. He normally made a backhanded statement about how he was doing it and usually caved in to cause some mayhem when it didn’t work. This time, he was legitimately keeping his head down and skirting the less populated areas of camp to avoid encountering him or Gwen. He wanted to see if he could get away without having to get the bandages changed or at least get a chance to do it himself if he could get into the medical supplies. He’d found a spot behind the Mess Hall that seemed pretty good to hunker down--   
  
“Max!”   
  
_ Fuck a duck. _

He slowly turned around, filled with dread, from his hiding place behind the Mess Hall to see David standing at the corner of the building with his arms crossed. “You were supposed to come to the counselors cabin for your foot.” he said, in his best ‘stern’ voice.   
  
“It feels fine.”

  
  
“It still has to be done.”

“Then let me do it by myself! I know how,” Max insisted, stepping back as David got closer. 

“You know first aid?” The counselor was prompting him to get him to admit he didn’t, but Max was prepared. “No, but I know how to disinfect shit and patch it up. I do it all the time.” He retorted. 

There it was. That look he hated, the pity and sadness. He turned away from him, hearing his footsteps get closer but he didn’t look at him. “If you really would be happier doing it, you can  _ with my supervision _ . That’s my compromise.”

Max hunched his shoulders, wanting to find some reason to defy it but he hated that David was actually making an effort to meet him halfway. It was a great tactic to make him feel like a douche if he didn’t do the same.  _ Since when did he get the power to guilt trip? _ He only relented because he knew either Gwen would get involved or David would pester and pester until he caved. Or that’s what he told himself. “You don’t touch me. I don’t need to be babied.”

“Okay, Max.”

David walked past him, giving him that stupid encouraging smile that was so much more subtle than his I’ve-been-customer-service-brainwashed grin. And it was oddly reassuring. He followed along behind him, limping a little and noticed David was taking shorter steps than usual to compensate for it. He wanted to be suspicious of how considerate he was being, treating Max like he was competent, but he was feeling run down. Max couldn’t make the effort to be paranoid. Besides, David didn’t have the mental capacity for there to be a catch. He was nice because he was fucking  _ David _ and didn’t know better.

Not that he would admit it, but Max was relieved to be in that armchair again. It was well worn, but still comfy and he sank into it like it was giving him a corduroy hug. Plus it was good to get off his feet. He began to peel off the bandages as David brought over the first aid kit and took a peek at it. Then he froze up with a blatant frown. “Oh…”

“What?” Max demanded and peered over at his foot. It looked a little red around the cut, but that was normal, wasn’t it?

“It’s probably nothing, but just in case.” David knelt down and passed him the alcohol and cotton so he could start the process. Max was bracing himself for the sting when he got a thermometer stuck in his face. “Uh,  **no** .”

“Don’t argue with me in this, kiddo, please.”

There was a plaintive tone in David’s voice that took him aback. He was a worry wart at best, but this time he seemed really serious about it. Max took the thermometer and stuck it in his mouth, but jerked away with David tried to push the button for him. After thirty seconds, it beeped and he handed it to David, who squinted at it and then smiled. “Normal.”

“Whoopee,” Max muttered, putting the cream on his cut and beginning to wrap it up like David had before. As thick headed as he was, David did actually know how to tend an injury and Max had learned from watching him. “There, can I fucking go now?”

“No running or climbing,”

“I’m not Nikki. Do all kids look alike to you?”

“Still, just in case. If it starts bleeding or burns or gets puffy, you come right to me or Gwen.”

_ “Can I fucking go?” _

They had a stare down for a solid minute, cool green meeting warm forest, a quiet battle of wills. Just as Max thought  _ wait _ ,  _ why am I waiting for his permission? I can just— _

“You can go.”

Max awkwardly slid out of the chair and limped slowly to the door, mindful to put as little pressure on his foot as possible and feeling David’s watchful eye the whole time. He stopped to say something before he went, unsure how to even begin. He wanted to say something nice, but he couldn’t even manage a simple thank you. How hard was  _ Gee, David, thanks for going out of your way to help me. _ He saw his counselor’s face softened as he started to say, “Do you need something el--?”   
  
Max slammed the screen door and yanked his hood up, looking around for Nikki and Neil to join in whatever shenanigans they had for the day. He didn’t really get to participate; keeping up with Nikki was a nightmare, since he actually tried his best to follow his counselors advice. His friends initially asked him if he was okay and he shrugged it off, “David’s just found a way to be more irritating than ever. I’m fine.” and refused to engage with them about it anymore. He didn’t appreciate them trying to slow down and do boring shit like draw or four square so he could be included. He was content just to watch and follow them around moodily, providing snarky commentary to everything they did.   
  
The next day, he went straight to the counselors cabin, wincing every step of the way. He had skipped having his socks and shoes, since getting them on was such an ordeal. The cut was tender and hot to the touch, and he started to understand why David had been so serious. He was scared of an infection, and now  _ Max  _ was scared he had been right. He had deliberated all morning on whether or not to keep up the fight, but in the end, Neil regaling him about all the different kinds of infections pushed him over the edge. The gangrene talk did him in. It was ridiculous, his foot wasn’t going to rot off, but his friend had created a mental image and it stuck.   
  
David gave him a hard time about not wearing shoes, and fussed over getting a temperature from him again. No fever. This went on for another two days, and Max just wanted it to be healed already. His legs were sore, he was exhausted and didn’t want to keep getting up early to avoid the other campers seeing him getting fawned over a little cut.    
  
“You okay, Max?”    
  
His ears were ringing a little, as he took the thermometer again and repeated the routine. His head was pounding and it felt like he slept with a rock jamming into his spine all night. When he tried to shrug, pain shot across his shoulders and he stiffened up with an involuntary noise. “Yeah,” he said, biting the thermometer a little harder than necessary. He handed it to David after it beeped and as his counselor looked at it, David glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, trying to be discreet. “You just seem a little tired. Did you get enough--?” he began, until he looked down at it and went silent.    
  
“What?” Max’s stomach flipped a little. He started to lean forward to look at it, then immediately reeled back as a hand went to touch his forehead. He would have punched him but his arms felt too stiff and the reaction felt delayed. “ _ What did we say about touching, idiot?! _ ”    
  
David stood up and set the kit aside. “You just have a  _ tiny  _ fever, it’s probably not a big deal. But just in case, I’m gonna make a call to the clinic in town, get you checked out.”   
  
A cold shock ran down his spine. Max began to shake his head, despite a stiffness. “It’ll go away by itself…”   
  
“You hate being babied, so I won’t baby you. A fever with an infection can be really serious, Max, you can’t take chances.” David argued, “And if you’re scared--”   
  
“I’m not scared!” He said hurriedly, the words jumbling together. Real convincing. But he fucking hated doctors, hospitals, clinics. He had only been to a few, but they creep him out. Needles, medications, judgmental and nosy people, the sounds of the sick...They just made his skin crawl. He hadn’t been to a hospital in so long, but he could remember always feeling like he’d never leave.   
  


“If you’d rather, Gwen could take you?” David offered.   
  
Max didn’t answer. He just curled up in the chair and looked away from him, miserable as he tugged his sleeves over his hands and his hood over his head. He knew he couldn’t stop David, but he wasn’t going to participate or be cooperative. So, his counselor just retrieved a glass of water and set it on the table beside him, before stepping outside with his phone.    
  
He must have nodded off, because he didn’t hear David coming back or moving around the cabin. He jolted as he felt a hand sting on his back and his eyes shot wide open. “Don’t sneak up on me,” he growled, as David knelt down to his height. He smiled at him apologetically, as he set a small plastic cup filled with a bubblegum pink liquid. “Sorry. Here, this will help your fever. Make sure to drink the water after you take it.”   
  
Normally, Max wouldn’t have anything to do with medication. He wouldn’t even touch an advil for a headache, despite having them for what felt like all the time. But somehow, when it wasn’t in pill form, it was less...sinister. But he still asked, “Do I  _ have  _ to?”   
  
His counselor picked it up and gently took his hand, placing it in it. “Yes, you do.”   
  
Max eyed it for a long time. Never had bright pink ever been so menacing. But in the end, he gulped it down and quickly drank the water to get rid of the sticky sweet taste. For a minute, he was scared it didn’t go down. His throat was resisting, threatening to just cough all the liquid up but he clenched his teeth and it stayed down. “There...So, when are we going?”   
  
“Well, they’re pretty busy. I couldn’t get an appointment until the morning after tomorrow. They told me to just keep an eye on you and your fever and keep cleaning the cut, and you’d be okay until then. Minor infection, probably from walking around barefoot.”   
  
“Are you making some kind of point?”   
  
“Are you understanding a point?”   
  
He slowly raised one middle finger in David’s face, giving his answer and just got a chuckle and  _ aw, Max, that’s not very nice _ in response.    
  
But that didn’t change the fact he was effectively confined to the cabin. He didn’t want to leave the chair, so David just took a pillow from his bed and grabbed an extra blanket. The hoodie was ditched before he was properly nested in place, since the counselor insisted it would make his fever worse if he was too layered. The whole ‘sweating out’ a fever thing was a myth. David fetched a cold pack in a towel and began to hand it to Max. But Max didn’t feel able to relax from his current position. It took a few seconds to reach out his hand for it, and when he did, he didn’t understand why it was so slow. David beat him to the punch, and just placed the pack on his forehead, holding it in place. Max unintentionally closed his eyes, the chill bringing a little relief to his aching head and stinging skin. He really just wanted to sleep. David helped him put his own hand on it and hold it in place. “How’re you so good at this stuff?” Max asked after a while.   
  
“What do you mean?” David was absentmindedly trying to get the T.V on with the uncooperative remote.   
  
“Playing nurse.”   
  
There was a pause, a delay to David’s response that actually perked up Max’s curiosity. He looked at him without turning his head, watching David hesitate and fidget with the remote buttons until he finally answered, “My mom, I guess.”

  
“Your mom?”   
  
“Mmhm.”   
  
“Is she, like, a doctor or some shit?”   
  
“She was a trauma surgeon.”   
  
“ _ What _ kind of surgeon is that?”

“She worked in the emergency room. When people came in with injuries and stuff that had to be treated right away, she helped them. Car accidents, heart attacks, animal attacks, that kind of stuff.” 

_ Huh _ . “That’s— actually kinda cool.”   
  
“You think so?” David looked back at him with an oddly heavy smile. Pride, and bitter-sweetness. “It was pretty cool, actually. She taught me a lot.”   
  
He didn’t like how much past tense was being used, and Max knew there was a red flag here, but he was actually learning something about David’s past. He wrote it off as being happy at the show of weakness, and sat up as best he could. “Does she work at the hospital we’re going to? Please say no.”   
  
David’s shoulders tensed in a way that he didn’t know how to interpret. “No.” Was all he said, very quietly.    
  
“Ooo...kay? Did she get fired?”   
  
“No, Max. Hey, how about a DVD instead? Let’s see what there is.” the man abruptly stood and went over to the case to look through what was available, obviously trying to change the subject but Max wasn’t having it.    
  
“What about your dad, then?” he demanded, sitting forward, a little second wind coursing through him.    
  
“Just leave it alone, okay, Max?”   
  
He was ready to dig into it, really taunt him this time now that he seemed to have hit a nerve but he faltered. The desperate look David was giving him, telling him he was on thin ice with this conversation, took that second wind away in a heartbeat. So, he let David pick a movie and he watched it alone as his counselor left to check on the rest of camp. He wasn’t the only kid in it, after all.   
  
__________________________________________________________________________   
  
Spending the night in the counselors cabin, although not the first time, was always disconcerting. He felt out of place, like he was both invader and prisoner. He missed his tent, but Gwen and David insisted they had to keep an eye on him, since his fever wasn’t budging. He did hear them arguing quietly, and got the gist being that they were trying to decide who was going to lend them their bed, both insisting they should give their bed up for him.

  
“I like the chair,” he interrupted and Gwen made a dismissive gesture at him, ignoring his input.    
  
In the end, David changed the sheets and pillow on his bed and got it made up with clean ones and Max was ushered into it, dragging his feet. He felt pathetic, crawling under the quilt and lacking the energy to pull it up, so Gwen did it for him. “How do you feel?”   
  
“Shitty.”    
  
“Mhm, you look like it. Your foot hurt?”   
  
“ _ Everything _ hurts,” he admitted, and it was true. He couldn’t get comfortable. Everywhere the mattress pressed, he seemed to have a sore bruise. And he kept going back and forth between squirming to get comfortable, then freezing from how his pajamas seemed to scrape his skin like sandpaper. Gwen sighed, and reached over to the light switch, turning it down. “Sleep will help. Shut up and close your eyes.”   
  
_ Heh _ . “G’night, bitch.”   
  
“Good night, hellspawn.”

* * *

  
  
David had trouble getting to sleep that night. He kept sitting up in the chair and looking at Max, checking to see if anything had changed but he was still curled up in a tight little ball around his teddy bear. A deceivingly innocent sight.    
  
He just couldn’t stop thinking the worst, and kept remembering bits and pieces of things he knew about Max’s symptoms, the variety of things they could entail. What irked him most was that when making the appointment, he had absolutely no information to give on an ill child. No emergency contact, no address, no medical history at all. He didn’t even know if Max had any health problems or allergies. He seemed healthy, maybe a little behind on growing and skinny when he first came to camp, and not the best sleeper. All things David was dwelling on that night.   
  
And judging by how much Max insisted on treating it alone, he got the idea he was used to having to patch his own scrapes. He hoped his parents were decent enough to tend cuts and bruises, but he was (once again) disappointed. Yet another responsibility put on Max. And while it was nice that the kid allowed himself to be helped the last few days, David would have preferred him able to run around carefree reaping general havoc around the camp, instead of being laid up indoors. Max would only be as docile as he had been if he truly wasn’t well, and David would trade a quiet, obedient Max for a healthy one any day.    
  
On top of that, he had filled out a report of the incident, despite the fact he couldn’t call anyone about it. He was required to alert the parents if their child was injured or endangered in any way, but he couldn’t.    
  
It made his blood boil so fiercely, he had steered clear of Max the rest of the day, just in case it come out. He wouldn’t let him see him angry, he didn’t like being angry!   
  
It was just so fucking  _ unfair _ .    
  


They were supposed to care that their son was suffering. They were supposed to leap to action to help him. They were supposed to  _ miss  _ him.    
  
But it had become plenty clear to David that Max was accustomed to fending for himself, and if his counselors weren’t looking out for him, nobody was. So the responsibility fell to him. Careful not to let the chair creak, David stood up and tiptoed over to his bed and gingerly knelt down. Max shifted slightly in his sleep, groaning quietly and a shudder ran through his scrawny frame. Then another; he was shivering. Chills, maybe?   
  
David put the back of his hand against his cheek, and his heart crawled into his throat at how hot it was to the touch. The fever had gone up and in addition, Max’s skin was damp, his hair plastered to his forehead and temples with sweat. His arms and legs jerked slightly every so often, like he was having a nightmare but every time, a little noise of discomfort emitted from Max, muffled in the back of his throat as he slept on.    
  
David had a sneaking, horrible theory. And he hated it, but he tested it by taking Max’s wrist in his hand and feeling his pulse. It was jumping around, quicker than a bunny and he could see his little fingers twitching and clenching with spasms. He knew what a seizure looked like, and this resembled one, but he instinctively felt it was something different. Still serious.   
  
“ _ Oh, no. _ ” he whispered aloud in the dark. He surged to his feet and rushed to the other side of the cabin, seeing the shape in the dark as he grabbed Gwen’s arm and shook her as hard as he dared. “Gwen, get up!”   
  
“Wha-- the fff…” she grumbled, yanking it away and opening her eyes with a ridiculous amount of effort. She sat up, rubbing her hands roughly over her face, taking a minute to collect herself before she looked at him with hooded, unimpressed eyes. “ **What** .”   
  
“We have to take Max to the hospital. I need you to get the car started.”   
  
She was wide awake then, and already starting to get out of bed, plainly nervous. Certain she was up and capable, David abandoned her side to start getting his shoes on, still in his own pajamas, but he didn’t feel there was time to change. And he loathed doing it, but he knelt down beside Max and gently rocked him by the shoulder. “Hey, time to wake up.”   
  
He expected a backlash like always. And then he desperately wanted it, as the child’s eyelids just fluttered and his expression barely changed. “Max!” he said louder, and the eyes opened.  _ Oh, thank God _ . He tugged the blanket off and began to, as gently as possible, sit Max upright. The minute he started to move him, he was met with protests that didn’t even sound like the camper he knew. _ “No, no, no, no, stop, it hu-urts, I don’t wanna get up…” _ _   
  
_

“Your back hurts?” David asked, not daring to let him go. He didn’t think he would stay upright if he did. He felt Max flinch and whimper at the motion when the screen door slammed, Gwen sprinting out to get the car in order. He watched the kid meet his gaze unsteadily with glassy, feverish eyes, and he could actually see the continuous tremors that wracked his body. “Am--Am I okay?” the boy croaked.   
  
“You will be once we get you a doctor. I’m sorry, kiddo, I have to pick you up. It’s not going to be fun.”   
  
And it wasn’t. The sound that came from Max when he was lifted up in David’s arms, the spasms that took over his body, it would haunt David forever. He’d give anything in that second to switch places and to make the pain go away. But he couldn’t. He could only shove the screen door open with his shoulder and walk briskly across camp to the car, Max bundled up in his quilt against the windy night.    
  
Gwen helped him get Max buckled into the back seat, and once he was, he just slumped there. “Stay here with the campers,” David told her, opening the drivers door. “I have my phone. If anything happens--”   
  
“I’ll fix it.” she said, giving him a rare reassuring smile and reaching out to give his hand a squeeze. “Better get going.”   
  
He wished she could come with him. She was so good at keeping him focused and calm, and just having her there gave him strength alone but...They couldn’t both leave the camp. He silently squeezed his friend's hand in return, before getting behind the wheel.   
  
The only thing he could hear the whole drive was Max’s shuddering breaths and labored groans, his feet scuffing the floor as he tried to find a position that brought relief but there wasn’t one to be found. “Hang in there, Max, just a few more minutes.” David said, glancing at him over his shoulder, then back at the countryside road ahead. For years, it was one of his favorite places to drive. It was beautiful and went on forever, the perfect path for contemplation.    
  
Now, it was just an abyss with no end in sight.   
  
Max mumbled something, but nothing was coherent.    
  
“S-say again?” David prompted him, hoping maybe getting him to talk would be a good thing.   
  
“--see your mom...?”   
  
_ Just one, just one break. Is that so much to ask?  _ “I told you she doesn’t work at the hospital anymore, remember?” he chose his words carefully.    
  
“So...not going to see your mom?”    
  
“No.” He focused on the road ahead.  _ Anything but that _ .    
  


“I want  _ my _ mom.”   
  
David had no idea what to say to that. He couldn’t lie to Max, and he didn’t know enough to figure out anything that could reassure him that she would be there if she could. “I’m here, Max.” he said. He meant the words, but he was certain Max probably found them hollow.   
  
Max was alarmingly quiet for the rest of the drive, right up until David pulled up to the emergency room. He threw the car into park and rushed around the side, yanking open Max’s door and gathering him up in his arms again. He was so lightweight, and felt smaller than ever, so quiet and inert.    
  
It was a sleepy state in the emergency room until David burst in and shouted, “ _ Somebody help!”  _ and shattered it. The nurse at the desk was around it in a second and when she spotted the child in his arms, she was calling more.    
  
Every time his heart beat, there was a sharpness to it. He felt utterly sick. And when they took Max from him, he couldn’t feel anything at all. At first, he couldn’t respond to the nurse asking him questions, not until she got the idea to sit him down and give him a second.    
  
He answered the questions in the most limited answers.    
  
_ “Patient’s full name?” _ Max Purohit. I don’t know his middle.   
  
_ “Are you his guardian?” _ No...Camp Counselor.   
  
_ “Do you know where his parents are?” _ Portland, somewhere.  _ “No address?” _ No.   
_   
_ _ “Are you able to contact them?”  _ No.   
  
_ “Do you know if he has allergies?” _ No.   
  
_ No. No. No. No… _   
  
He didn’t know anything that could help. She solemnly marked down her sheet and asked for someone to contact if they couldn’t reach him. He wasn’t going anywhere, but he did give them Gwen’s information just in case.    
  
Then he could only wait.   
  
Tapping his foot, pacing, fidgeting his hands. He had no idea how unhinged he looked; wearing hiking boots with flannels and a T-shirt, wandering around an E.R waiting room with a perpetually terrified expression. A nurse suggested he could go home and rest if he needed, that it would be a long time but he ignored her.    
  
He did finally take a seat again, staying almost completely still well into the morning. His eyes felt heavy, his hands shaky and head hurting, but he was awake when the doctor finally came back down the hall. She glanced at her clip board and asked into the room, “David Rowntree?”   
  
“Y-yes! That’s me!” he hopped up to his feet, energy renewed, and closed the space between them before she really had time to react. “What’s happened to Max? Is he going to be okay? Can I take him ho-- back to camp?” he asked rapidly.   
  
“Slow down, young man.” she coached him calmly, finding a particular page on her clipboard and studying it. “I understand you’re the closest thing to a caregiver at this time? You’re his emergency contact?”   
  
“I’m his camp counselor...his parents left him in my care, I’m legally responsible for him at the moment.”   
  
“Then I can be frank with you. Max’s immune system isn’t as strong as it should be for a boy his age. We ran some tests, didn’t find any disorders, just some deficiencies or at least what looks like a history of them.”   
  
The longer she spoke, the more his heart seemed to sink into a pit.    
  
“That said, it makes sense why the incubation period was so short and we confirmed he is not vaccinated for most major childhood diseases. Were you aware he didn’t have a tetanus shot?”   
  
“I--I had no idea.” his own voice sounded like it was speaking from behind glass, distant and muffled. “He’s not vaccinated for  _ anything _ ?”   
  
“We’re still waiting on some tests, but we did confirm he isn’t immunized for tetanus, measles, chicken pox or whooping cough. He’s very lucky he didn’t get worse much faster. We have him medicated and resting, getting fluids and he’s responding to treatment. He’ll have to stay here for a little bit until he’s out of the woods.”   
  
David’s mind was spinning. He wasn’t stupid enough to wonder how it was possible that a little boy in this day and age wasn’t properly vaccinated for potentially deadly diseases. His parents. They didn’t bother.  _ History of deficiencies _ . “Can I see him?” he asked quietly, staring down at the floor. “He’ll be scared when he wakes up.”   
  
“I don’t see why not. I think it would be rather good for his recovery, actually. You clearly care very much, Mr. Rowntree.”   
  
“He’s worth it.”   
  
He kept rolling the meaning of those words over in his mind as he followed the doctor to Max’s room, just trying to fathom how his parents didn’t seem to feel the same. Sure, Max was a troublemaker. That was putting it  _ lightly _ , but he was still just a little boy. And kids lash out when they’re angry or hurt, when they don’t know how to handle whatever ordeal life put in front of them. He had seen how Max could be compassionate when it counted, how much he would do for his friends. He saw how much he cared, and how much he cared about looking like he  _ didn’t _ care. He was smarter than most adults, that was a fact.    
  
And nothing prepared him for seeing his favorite trouble-maker in the state he was. They hadn’t changed his clothes, there was no reason to, but there was a bandage on his hand that held an I.V in place, pumping medication and fluids into his system, fighting an invisible war to help him before it was too late. He looked so  _ tiny  _ in the big hospital bed, still shivering and oblivious to the world around him as he slept through it all.   
  
“Oh, Max.” David breathed, unfolding the blanket bundle and laying the quilt over him again, then taking the teddy bear and tucking it against his side just so. “You didn’t deserve this. This should never have happened to you. They-- they could’ve-- they _ should have  _ done everything to keep you safe.”   
  
He waited, but Max kept sleeping. Good. He needed it. David pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down, studying his face, the dark bruises under his eyes and how his hair stuck to his forehead, the fever lowered but not broken. David took a minute to brush them back, carding his fingers through the poofy ink black locks to restore order to them. Max’s face, tense more often than not, seemed to relax a little bit. It was remarkable how all kids were the same; the same thing worked on David at Max’s age. “I know you can’t hear me, and that’s alright, you need the sleep. But I mean everything I’m going to say right now.”   
  
He took a slow, deep breath. “Whatever happens next, however we handle your parents,  _ because so help me  _ ** _God _ ** _ it will be handled _ , I’m going to look after you. I  _ promise _ . I’ll do my best to help you grow and take care of you, like you’re supposed to be. Whatever happens when summer ends, you’re going to be okay. Things are going to be better, I will not stop trying until they are.”   
  
He waited, unsure what for. Maybe for Max to wake up, to say something but he didn’t. The boy slept on, rather soundly in fact, and the room was quiet except for the sound of the monitor and the white buzz of hospital activity. Distant P.A calls, footsteps that echoed on the linoleum, sometimes a distant baby’s cry. Every time the kid moved, arched his back uncomfortably or shifted his arm, David sat ramrod straight to be ready. But he still didn’t wake.   
  
Despite his best attempts to fight it, the exhaustion was catching up with him. He had stayed up all night, and the emotional toll alone was draining. David sat back in the chair, his eyelids impossibly heavy and the world slowing around him as he dozed. He didn’t sleep very long, maybe an hour before he gasped awake to his phone ringing loudly. He scrambled and yanked it out of his pocket, muting the ringer and looking at Max in alarm but his eyes still weren’t open. Phew. He stood up, daring to duck just outside the door and looked at the caller I.D

  
**CBFL (GWEN) **

He answered it quickly, “Hi! Hi, Gwen.” he said, more frantic than he meant to, in his attempt to sound upbeat.   
  
_ “Holy shit, David! I’ve been texting you all morning!” _   
  
_ Whoops _ . “Whoops.”   
_   
_ _ “Are you still at the hospital? What happened?” _   
  
David leaned around the door frame, double checking Max was still out like a light. He had rolled over with his back to David, facing the I.V and curled up around his bear. But he still seemed asleep.    
** _  
_ ** ** _“EARTH TO DAVID?”_ **   
  
“Gaa-ah! I’m here! Sorry.” He ducked back around and closed the door just a bit, so he could still see through it. “Max is gonna be fine. They have him on medication and resting, but he’ll need to be here for a few days. I-It was pretty serious. If we had waited--” He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, not wanting to finish that sentence. Gwen was quiet on the other line, waiting for him to continue. He could hear her breathing softly. “He didn’t have a tetanus shot.” he admitted finally. “Gwen, he doesn’t have  _ anything _ . They said his immune system couldn’t fight it off, it was too weak.”   
_   
_ _ “Jesus, he has fucking tetanus?” _ He could hear the disbelief and horror in her voice.   
  
“I didn’t know! I would’ve brought him here right away if I did but I didn’t. I should have asked him or something. Now he’s in all this pain and there’s  _ nothing  _ I can do--”   
  
_ “Don’t you start that shit, you did everything right. From day one you were on the ball, and because you were, you got him help before it was too late. And now you’re gonna be there for him when he wakes up, and to take him home. This is  _ ** _not _ ** _ your fault.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “...I hate them,” David admitted, muttering it. _   
_ _   
_ _ “Who? _ _   
_ _   
_ “His parents. There has to be something we can do. We’re mandated reporters! This has to constitute neglect.”   
  
_ “Much as I want to, David, they aren’t legally obligated to vaccinate him, at least as long as he’s homeschooled. I think, I’ll double check. Still, he wouldn’t be able to go to school if he didn’t have them, so he must be.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “So we just let this go?!” _   
_ _   
_ _ “That is  _ ** _not _ ** _ what I said. But think about it, David. What if we’re wrong? What if CPS shows up at his house and disrupts his life for no reason? Or, we call them now before we know enough and when they do go to investigate, they don’t know what to look for. Then they leave without finding any reason to take him away from there and--” _ _   
_ _   
_ “And his parents might take it out on him.” _   
_ _   
_ _ “Yeah. We have the rest of the summer to get Max to tell us anything if there’s anything to tell. All I’m saying is don’t jump the gun when your case is still thin enough to brush off.” _ _   
_ _   
_ David felt his anger subside. It was still there, boiling slightly and ready to pop when the time was right. But the time wasn’t right; that was Gwen’s point.  _ She’s so smart. _ He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, nodding before he remembered she couldn’t see him. “Thanks, Gwen. I-I needed that.”   
  
He heard Max’s voice right then, but didn’t make out the words. He peeked through the door, seeing the boy slowly sit up on one elbow, hunched over as he began to get his bearings. “He’s awake. I’ll call you later, thanks Gwen, bye!” David felt bad hanging on her so abruptly, but he hadn’t wanted Max to wake up alone in a strange place.    
  
The boy was mumbling to himself still and trying to pick off the medical tape that held his I.V feed in place on his hand. _ “Shit, shit, shit…” _ _   
_   
David wanted to say something comforting, but he saw this going bad and rushed around the bed, grabbing Max’s wrist harder than he meant to prevent him from doing any damage. He regretted it immediately. Max actually cried out, either in pain or fear, and David instinctively let him go. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry.” he kept his voice quiet and tried to make his tone soothing, but Max disregarded him and went right after his hand again. This time, David took him by the shoulder and his arm, firmly holding him against the pillow to keep him from moving around too much or getting after it. Max probably would have kicked him if he could, but his muscles weren’t responsive enough yet. “Max, please, you’re going to hurt yourself!”   
  
“Get off of me!” his voice was crackly and broke halfway through, barely making it out at all. “I don’t want it! David, stop!”   
  
He hated doing it. He could feel how hard he was struggling and already Max was getting weak with the effort but he held him anyway.  _ It’s for his own good. _ “You need to stay calm, kiddo. You’re safe, nothing is--”   
  
_ “Get it out of me!” _   
  
This only went on for a minute, maybe less, as Max rapidly ran out of energy. He tried to sit up one more time, but even if he was healthy, he was a ten year old. He wasn’t going anywhere if David wasn’t letting him. Finally, he sat back and glared up at his counselor, his green eyes rimmed red and shining with furious tears he was trying to blink away. “I hate you.” he said, with the most menacing growl he could muster.    
  
_ He’s just scared _ . “That’s okay. Are you going to stay still if I let you go?”   
  
Max turned his head away, clenching his jaw and not answering.    
  
David wasn’t willing for a round two. “Max. I’m serious. If you try to pull the I.V out, I’m calling the nurse and you can deal with him instead of me, is that what you want?”   
  
“You’re an asshole,” Max muttered, just one tear making its way free, trickling over the bridge of his nose and dropping onto the pillow. “ _ Fine _ . I’ll stay.”   
  
When David did let go of him, his hands hovered, ready to catch him if he broke his word but thankfully Max didn’t. He just stayed exactly as he was, hiding his face in the pillow from David and peeking out one eye to look at the I.V.    
  
“What’s in it?” he asked.   
  
“Anti-biotics, medicine, fluids to help you get hydrated. You have an infection, but they’re taking care of it.”   
  
“I don’t-- I don’t want any pain stuff.”   
  
That gave David pause, as he tried not to get too many assumptions. He remembered Gwen’s advice, and picked the bear up from where it had been knocked onto the floor in their scuffle. “I’ll talk to your doctor about it. Here,” he took Max’s elbow, helping him lift his sore arm and snuggled the bear under it. As much as Max kept a miserable face, he did visibly draw it in closer for the familiar comfort. His face grew a little red and David was sure he was embarrassed to be seen with it, but David said nothing. “Do you remember last night?”   
  
“Kind of. N-not really. I remember you waking me up and the car a little bit.”   
  
“Yep, that’s right. We’re at Sleepy Peak General, the hospital. I drove you here a little after you went to bed.”   
  
“What’s wrong with me?”   
  
_ I wish he didn’t say it like that.  _ “Well,” David didn’t take his eyes off the wild-child as he pulled his chair up again and sat down. “You took a turn for the worst. You’re going to be okay, but it is serious...” He knew Max wouldn’t appreciate sugar coating, so he bit the bullet and told him outright about the tetanus, how long it would take to get better, what it might take. He was going to have to spend a little while in the hospital as he already was. Halfway through, Max turned over to look at him properly, his expression perpetually angry and offended, but he didn’t interrupt until David was done. “Max, do your parents take you to the doctor often?”   
  
“Nah. I don’t really get sick.”   
  
“There’s more reasons to go to the doctor than when you get hurt or sick. You know what preventative care is, right?”   
  
“Mom says I spent a lot of time there as a baby and used to freak out if she took me to the doctor. Now I just hate them, I guess.”   
  
“Why were you in the hospital as a baby?”   
  
“I was premature. I’m fine now, stop making that stupid face.”   
  
_ God-- Gosh darn it. _ David rubbed the heels of his palms hard against his eyes, desperate for some sleep but he knew it was a long way off. That would have been great to know to tell the doctor. “New rule. From now on, Max, if you have  _ any  _ medical stuff you know about, I have to know it too.”   
  
“Why? You’re not my dad.”   
  
“But I  _ am  _ responsible for your safety as long as I’m your camp counselor. Do you understand what could have happened to you, Max?”   
  
Max slouched down further in the bed or tried to. When he moved, David watched him flinch and his shoulders jerk. He’d never experienced anything as serious as this; he grew up a pretty healthy kid, but he was familiar with the symptoms. He’d heard tetanus was a painful experience, especially for a child and the pain could be anywhere but most commonly targeted the neck and back. But David didn’t press the question. He could tell Max understood, and didn’t want to talk about it further. “...Remember what I said? If you behaved for the doctor?”   
  
His camper side eyed him, confused until the memory dawned on him. “You’d tell me more about your parents?”   
  
“Yep.”   
  
“Sweet. Blackmail material?”   
  
David cracked a smile, “Maybe. I don’t have a mind for that sort of thing.”   
  
_____________________________________________________________________   
  
David had never seen Max shy before, but he seemed to sort of turtle into himself as he was checked over. When David initially went to leave, thinking he’d rather have privacy, Max called out after him, “Where the hell are you going?!” meaning to sound accusatory but David heard the panic. He didn’t want to be alone with the practitioner. She wasn’t frightening at all, and was very nice; David actually knew her, at least in passing. She used to be coworkers with his mother and he’d more than once been given a candy or some other treat by her when visiting, even filled in for his pediatrician when they weren’t in town. But Max didn’t know what a sweet person she was.   
  
So, David waited patiently, listening to the doctor go over what Max’s treatment would be and checking that he understood it. He could tell Max was choking down the sarcastic answers the whole time. Halfway through, he kept shooting David looks and then at the I.V, trying to hint something. David made a one minute gesture. He’d broach the subject once the doctor was finished.   
  
“Well, Mister Purohi--”   
  
“Max.”   
  
“Max. Everything looks good. You should be running around in a week, give or take, and you should feel much more comfortable in less time than that. I recommend Davey brings you for a follow up exam afterwards, though.”   
  
Max snickered and looked at David,  _ “Davey?!” _ _   
_   
He was just happy that Max was perking up and acting like himself again, so he wasn’t bothered by the jab. “I went by it as a kid.” he explained.    
  
“That’s so fucking dorky.”   
  
“Language,” the doctor minded him. She jotted down a note, tore the paper and handed to him. “There you go, son. I’ll be assigned to him for his stay, so if you have questions, just call that number.”   
  
“Thanks, Doctor Herrera. I will.”   
  
“I’ll get some breakfast sent up for you, Max. Any jello preference?”   
  
“Uh...what kind is there?”   
  
“Honestly, I don’t think they’re really in flavors, just colors.” Dr. Herrera joked with a smile and David did a double take. He swear Max returned it, just a tiny bit. “Red, green, yellow, blue.”   
  
“Blue. Uh, please.”   
  
_ I’m so proud.  _   
  


Before she was gone, David followed her out and stopped her. “Wait. He wanted me to tell you, he doesn’t want to be on any pain medication.” he told her.   
  
Dr. Herrera turned around, looking at her file on Max. “It’s nothing too potent, he is a ten year old after all. Does he have a history of bad reactions?”   
  
“I don’t think so. He just seems pretty scared to be on them.”   
  
“Is there a history of drug use in his family?”   
  
“I don’t--”   
  
“You don’t know,” she sighed. “Yeah, I’ve heard that a lot. I won’t lie, it’s going to be a very difficult recovery without them. But I’ll have him taken off them. Just let him know if he changes his mind, it’s okay.”   
  
“I will.”    
  
After she had left, David took out his phone and unlocked it, hoping he wasn’t going to regret it. He’d downloaded some games on it during the conversation. There was one that was just a shark that swam around eating everything; it was a little morbid, right up Max’s alley. He reentered the room and plopped it onto Max’s lap, who picked it up and gave him a distrusting look. “I’m not  _ dying _ , David.”   
  
“Nope.”   
  
Max fiddled with it for a while until his lunch was dropped off and the phone was forgotten. He really was hungry, and Dr. Herrara made sure to drop off a green jello for David. He was surprised she remembered, but he hadn’t had breakfast either and it was better than nothing. “Alright, I promised..” He sighed, peeling off the lid. “Sharing time.”

  
“Ah, you don’t actually have to if it’s gonna make you all bummed out and shit…”   
  
“A promise is a promise, I don’t break them. It’s fine.” He wasn’t eating his jello, just mashing it into a fine goop with the plastic fork. David didn’t really know where to start, and he didn’t want to pour the whole story on Max when he was how he was. He didn’t want to make him upset, either. “My mom’s name was Willow, and like I said before, she used to work here, helping people. She was the kindest person in the world. She always knew exactly what people need.”   
  
“Is she dead?”   
  
David flinched and looked at Max. He didn’t have a sneer or judgemental look. He almost seemed  _ worried _ , and David knew he didn’t mean to be that blunt. Still, he only managed a nod.

  
Max pushed his food tray further down his lap a little, and David picked it up for him and set it on the side table. He watched him awkwardly fidget with a loose eye on his teddy bear, waiting for him to say anything. It was a heavy silence, until Max finally broke it. “What happened to her?” his voice was flat, barely above a whisper.   
  


That struck a raw nerve. Over the years, David did his best to keep a brave face whenever he talked about his mother. But there were lingering fears that what took her life loomed over his own like a dark cloud. Not because he might meet the same fate, but that he would pass it on to his  _ own  _ kids. If he had any. “It’s not something for kids to talk about, buddy.”   
  
“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile, David. You promised to share. I thought you didn’t break promises?”   
  
“I don’t! But I never said how much I’d share, and I think I’ve told you plenty. Maybe another day--”   
  
“So you always want me to talk to you about my shit, but when it’s your turn, you just turn into a giant fucking hypocrite?” Max was raising his voice, and it just made it harder for David to stay patient. He couldn’t take it personally. Max was stressed, and he had a point, he knew that, but he was so tired and frustrated. The boy went on, “You’re always preaching about being open and helping each other, the same kumbaya bullshit rhetoric! I refuse to believe you’re actually so happy all the time. I knew you were faking it! No guy with a dead mom--”

  
“I said that’s enough, Max!”

  
He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Max went quiet as a mouse, and David could swear he saw a little hurt on his face. David stood up to give him space, but stayed close to the bed. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m sor--”   
  
“Just leave me alone. It’s fine, I don’t give a shit about your sob story anyway. Everyone has one, David, even you. You’re not special, big fucking surprise.”   
  
Max turned over with a huff, yanking the blanket over his shoulder and then his head. David lingered for a moment, before he just patted the bed next to Max, knowing he’d feel it. “I’m gonna get you some of your stuff from camp, okay? I’ll be back by dinner time.”   
  
“Whatever.”   
  
The whole drive home, David couldn’t get the sound of him raising his voice and the way Max just shut down completely afterwards out of his mind. He didn’t mean it. The kid was terribly sick and had been through enough, he didn’t need people taking their problems out on him. It didn’t matter that he was pushing a line he knew was there; he was the child. David was the adult. He should have kept calm and been patient with standing his ground.    
  
It was almost right on cue when his phone rang and he slowed down to tap the answer, then the speaker button so he could keep driving. “Hello?”   
  
_ “David, it’s Gwen. Any updates?” _   
  
“Well, he’s himself again, mostly.”   
  
_ “Ouch. Are you unscathed?” _   
  
“Physically, yes. I’m on my way back to get some of his stuff, he’s going to be there for at least a week. How are you doing?”   
  
_ “I’m a god-damn pillar of order, David. I think I could actually run this shit hole solo. Not a chance in hell that I would, though.” _

  
He cracked a smile, a real one. “I believe it. You’re pretty badass.”   
  
She gasped, much louder than necessary to add sarcasm.  _ “David, your potty-mouth!”  _ _   
_   
They shared a laugh, and a comfortable pause settled between them until she spoke again.  _ “I had an idea after I called you. We know their city and last names, and they’re Indian. That doesn't narrow it down at all, but I figured I’d check out all the social media avenues I can to see if I get any hits. Make a file, and try to get Max to look through it. Maybe we can find them that way.” _   
  


“You’re a regular Nancy Drew, Gwen!” He already felt hopeful again. If anyone could corner some elusive folks, it was a hellbent Gwen. “You think he’d help, though?” _   
_   
_ “Of course you’ve read Nancy Drew…” _   
  
“They’re classics.”    
_   
_ _ “Uh huh, shut up. I think if we approached him about it right, he would. He’s diabolical, not unreasonable...Well--” _   
  
“Be nice. He’s in the hospital.”   
  
_ “Goddammit, you’re right. Hope it works. I tried tracking them through parents’ payment records--” _ _   
_   
“How did you get into that?” _   
_ _   
_ _ “I’m smarter than Cameron, moving on. His mom paid in cash, no trail.” _ _   
_ _   
_ “Darn...So we’re really doing this? We’re going after them?”   
  
_ “Something is fucked up with Max. A kid doesn’t end up like he does unless someone made him that way. Yeah, we’re going after them.” _

  
“He tried to tear out his I.V when he woke up.”   
  
_ “Why the hell would he do that?” _   
  
“He said he didn’t want pain medication. And he didn’t want to be alone with the doctor, and he told me his mother never takes him to them because it’s too much trouble when he gets upset. He was a premature baby, too, Gwen.”   
  
_ “He talked to you about his mom?” _   
  
“...He asked for her on the drive there, but didn’t tell me much else. He mostly wanted me to talk about mine.”   
_   
_ _ “Uhh--” _ _   
_   
“I just think he’s making an effort to  _ socialize _ , it’s good. I only told him a little. Gwen, I messed up. I thought I could handle talking about them, especially with Max, but then he wanted to know how she died and I...I  _ snapped  _ at him. Because I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.”   
  
_ “Oh, Dave.” _   
  
“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me anymore ever?” His voice wavered. “It’ll be my fault. I just killed his progress.”   
  
_ “Don’t give yourself so much credit. Give him some space, and then apologize to him after. Showing you can admit you’re wrong goes a long way with kids forgiving you, and Max isn’t as delicate as you’re making him sound. Okay, I’m gonna hang up and let you drive. And-- ugh...CBFL.” _   
  
“Oh my gosh--” and she hung up on him. But he smiled the entire drive back. That little gesture to cheer him up meant the world.

* * *

Gwen heard the gravel crunching under the wheels as David pulled up to the camp entrance, and broke off from the group to meet him at the cabin. “Nurf, you’re in charge.”   
  
She started the water in their bathroom, since it took nearly fifteen minutes for it to get warm, not that David could care but it was still a nice gesture. When the door opened and she heard him sigh, she leaned out the bathroom door to see him toeing off his shoes. He was still in his pajamas, his hair limp and mussed, circles starting under his eyes. “Hey, Gwen,” he said, smiling at her and giving a small wave, his fingers slightly curled. He just looked ready to drop.    
  
“Started the shower for you. Did you eat?”   
  
“Oh-- thanks. Uh, no, I didn’t get a chance. Hospital food isn’t my favorite, you know? I’ll make something later.”   
  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, crossing her arms as she walked over to him. She expected the immediate knee-jerk response to reassure her, but this time he hesitated and didn’t meet her gaze. She could see his shoulders sag and that twinkle in his eyes was dimmed.    
  
Now, Gwen knew David loved each and every one of the campers. He would go to the edge of the earth for each of them.   
  
But she also knew Max had a special place in his heart, especially since Parents Day. It wasn’t because he played favorites, but because David understood the kids needs so well and Max definitely needed  _ more _ . Most of them had loving parents to go back to, a substantial home of some kind. Max only had uncertainty, as far as they knew. David stepped up. He always did, that was the kind of person he was and she admired that. It had encouraged her over the summer to make the same effort. “David,” she said quietly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “You did good. He’s going to be okay because of you.”   
  
“I’m just so sick of bad things happening to him…I’m scared what’s  _ going  _ to happen to him when summer is over, Gwen.”   
  
He surprised her, as he took a half step forward and just plunked his forehead on her shoulder with a defeated sigh. All of her muscles locked up, as she tried not to focus on his hair tickling her cheek or how she could feel every breath he took. Awkwardly, she just rested her hand on his back and patted it a little. “Okay, sad man, seriously. You need a shower.”   
  
He let out a single-breath laugh and stood up, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry. I’m just gonna-- yeah.” He shuffled past her, and she heard him shut the bathroom door.    
  
Gwen shook her head and gave her cheek a quick smack to gear herself up.  _ Focus _ . She could only leave the kids with Quartermaster for so long. Her first task was to get to the Mess Hall and scrounge up a decent meal for David, since she was pretty sure he would forget to eat. It was a bad habit of his.    
  
Oatmeal was always in abundance, but she did cut up an apple (all the slices were uneven. Her knife skills were shit) and dressed it with what little sugar and cream they had in stock. That plus his favorite tea (sage; it smelled incredibly strong and she hated it, caffeine free poison) and what looked like bacon thrown on a tray completed a decent breakfast. He was coming out of the bathroom dressed by the time she came back with it, and her heart did a little jump when his face lit up. “Gweeen! That’s so sweet.”   
  
“How do you know it’s not for me?”   
  
Sad puppy eyes, right on cue. “Oh. Well--”   
  
“Kidding. God, you’re so easy to mess with.” She set it down on his desk and he plunked down in it to get some much needed food in his stomach. He immediately began searching through his desk for Max’s file, grabbed his favorite pen and began making notes in it. “What are you doing?”   
  
“Just writing down some stuff the doctor told me.”   
  
She hovered over his shoulder, something she hated personally but he never seemed to mind, reading what he wrote. His handwriting was long, rounded and a little spidery, but perfectly legible compared to hers. “Do you think maybe that’s why his immune system was weak? He was born premature?”   
  
“Actually, most premature babies grow up pretty normal once they get past the infancy stage if they get the right support. Unless he had a disorder to start with or something, it wouldn’t really be an issue. It’s a possibility, but I don’t think so.”   
  
She tended to forget his mom had been a doctor. “He doesn’t have a disorder, though?”   
  
“They said he had a ‘history of deficiencies’ as in vitamins and nutrients. You remember when he first got here, he was kind of skinny?”   
  
Gwen thought about it, realizing he was right. Under the baggy hoodie, she couldn’t have noticed but now that David pointed it out, she compared her memories of week-one Max to current Max. “You don’t think his parents are  _ starving  _ him, do you?”   
  
“I’m praying they don’t.” he said softly, closing the file and putting it away with the rest. “Let’s not spiral into theories. I think maybe his mom may not be so bad, not if he wanted her during all of this. I have to get his stuff.”   
  
Gwen wasn’t going to talk to him about how kids could still feel affection for their abusers. She trusted he would understand, but she wanted to share his hope that Max did have a loving home that just needed a little sorting out. “He’s not going to need it within the hour, maybe you should lay down.”   
  
“I am fi--”   
  
“If you say you’re fine, I’m throwing your mug out the window.”   
  
He instinctively held his  **#1 Counselor** mug against his chest with a meek expression.  _ I win _ . “Tiny nap. Nasa nap.” He negotiated.   
  
“Two hours, no more no less.”   
  
They shook hands on it, and once he had finished his food, he trudged over to his bed and fell face first onto it. As much as he seemed to fight it, he was asleep as soon as his head made impact with his pillow. She tugged a blanket over him, since he had left his quilt with Max, and made sure one leg wasn’t hanging off the side, before she closed the blinds and let him be.    


* * *

  
_   
_ _ Ow. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Ow. _   
  
“OW! Son of a bitch!”   
  
It was repetitive, jabbing spasms and pains in his back and legs. They were less frequent than the night before, but now that he was apparently off whatever numbing effect they put him on, they were giving him hell. Max had seriously underestimated just how bad it was going to be, but he grit his teeth and refused to back down. No drugs. He didn’t need them, he didn’t want them. The fever had yet to break, and the only relief from the chills was the down blanket David had left him with. He didn’t notice before that it was the same one he’d slept the night before, and he vaguely remembered being swaddled in its softness when carried through the doors, David yelling but he couldn’t remember what. He realized now he saw it carefully folded at the end of David’s bed all the time, but never looked at it.   
  
It was all he had to do, since he had no phone or books or anything, and couldn’t leave the bed. So he pulled it up to his chin, tucked his arms under it with Mr. Honeynuts hugged under them and began to study each and every square. They were all hand stitched and ran along the border, but the center was one giant square. It was a complicated symbol on the front, some kind of winding Celtic knot that was rounded, but had four corners give or take.    
  
The upper left corner, or his right, was vibrant greens with flowers, a fawn, and pairs of birds on the squares. The one next to it were different shades of green with yellow, depicting fireflies and willow trees, and the animals from before a little bigger. Below that, reds, oranges and browns, a stag...He figured out at one point they were the four seasons. And the longer he looked, the more detail there was.    
  
It was actually kind of cool, and kept him busy for a while as he dozed in and out, finding sleep again for a little while. But it wasn’t restful.

  
_ He didn’t understand why she kept doing this.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The noise of that door slamming and locking cut into him every time, and he felt like a little part of him bled away forever when it did. His mother told him to stay inside and not to make a noise or his father would get mad. She said she’d come and get him when it was okay again; he never knew when that was going to be. Every time, he broke down and clung to her leg, begging her not to leave him alone again. “Mr. Honeynuts will keep you safe, Maxie.” and she peeled him off. If he screamed, if he tried to hold on or talk to her again, she would hit him until he was quiet and she was crying, too. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Hours, sometimes days at a time he was stuck in there. He would spend them talking to his bear or sleeping, making up games of pretend if he could. Anything to pass the time until Mom let him out again.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He heard the slam of the apartment door and his heart jumped with hope, and he hated himself for it. He needed to learn to stop that. But he still got to his feet and approached the door. Max knocked on it as loud as he dared. “Mom? Are you home? C-can I come out now? I’ll be quiet. I promise. I’ll be good.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ No answer. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Mommy?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Silence. His heart began to beat against the inside of his chest, loud as a hammer on cloth. He tried the knob again, but it was still locked and there was no popping it. He had tried.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Max kept calling and calling, switching to cursing and yelling, then quick and frantic apologies as he thought about the consequences to come for disobeying the quiet rule. But still nobody answered. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “She left me,” he whispered. He knew it. Only a matter of time, until she forgot about him or left him on purpose. He just wanted out. He had no window, and the light was going to go out eventually. He just wanted to see outside, just wanted something to eat, wanted to talk to someone,  _ ** _he wanted out_ ** _ .  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Let me out. Let me out! LET ME OUT!” he shouted, kicking the door and pain shot up his toe. _ _   
_ _   
_ ** _“Max?”_ ** ** _  
_ ** _   
_ _ He froze. Nobody ever answered. What was going on? “Mommy?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Max!” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Mommy, come back!” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Max, wake up!” _ _   
_ _   
_ His eyes snapped open with a gasp, the white of the hospital room stinging his eyes, but only at the edges. He was face to face with someone. Dark reddish hair, brown skin, concerned eyes. Gwen. She was holding by the shoulders and shaking him, sitting by his side. “Hey,” she said, starting to let him go. “Are you okay? You were talking in your sleep.”   
  
He couldn’t find his voice. He was just so shocked she was there. He was shocked  _ anyone  _ was there. He was sure he’d wake up alone and now that he hadn’t, he had no reaction prepared.    
  
Gwen let him go and reached over the side of the bed, producing Mr. Honeynuts and offering it to him. “Sounded like a bad dream. You were asking for your mom.”   
  
Max kept trying to say something, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Anything he did would reveal something he had to hide.  _ Don’t ever tell anyone, Maxie, or they’ll take you away _ . He wanted to be honest with Gwen. They just had an unspoken sync; they could trust each other, in a way that didn’t need explanation. And he really wanted to use that trust, but he chickened out. He hated himself for it, and reached out slowly for his bear, the tears rolling freely down his cheeks. He took his hand back, and began angrily trying to rub them away.   
  
“Get over here, devil-child.” He felt Gwen draw him into her arms, the first time she had ever hugged him. Her embrace was firm and the way she curled around him, it was like she was shielding him from something. Like a mama bear, ready to gouge the face off anyone who looked at them sideways. His skin still hurt a little bit, sensitive from the fever and infection, but he didn’t mind. “I get it. You don’t want to talk, you don’t have to. But don’t you hide your tears from me. They matter,  _ you  _ matter.”   
  
_ Aw, fuck. _ That just made it worse somehow. She was good at finding just the right thing to say that found the weak point. He did his best not to sob since it just  _ hurt  _ but he leaned against her for as long as he dared, sniffling quietly and breathing shaky breaths as he got it out of his system. Once he was quiet and they had stopped, she put her hand on his head and leaned back a little bit to look at him. “Good?”   
  
“Good,” he replied, pulling away from her and laying back down. Gwen brushed her thumb over his cheek and he actually didn’t try to pull away. “I’m gonna go grab something for you. I’ll be two minutes.”   
  
And she was, less than actually. She came back with a cloth in her hands, damp from the bathroom sink. She sat down beside him again, “Close your eyes.” she told him and he did, albeit suspiciously. She placed the cloth over them and it actually felt a lot better. They were puffy from crying and stress, but the coolness soothed it and he felt a lot calmer too. After a little bit, she turned it over to the cool side. “You know what’s funny? I ditched David at camp.”   
  
He cracked a smile. “You did?”   
  
“Yep, but I grabbed your stuff first.”   
  
He took the cloth off and put it aside, as she handed him his phone and scooted his duffel bag under the bed. He ran a hand over the blanket, then pointed at the intricate knot. “What is that?”   
  
“Uh, I think it’s a _dara _knot? David told me once. And all that other stuff under it is part of his family crest.”   
  
“He has a family crest?”   
  
“Apparently his ancestors were members of some Scottish clan, like, three hundred years ago.”   
  
Max unlocked his phone and began checking it, finding about two million messages from Neil and Nikki losing their goddamn minds. “I think I actually pissed him off.”   
  
“About his family?”   
  
“He told you?”   
  
“A little bit. Don’t take it personally, Max, he’s pretty sensitive about what happened to his mom. It took him forever to tell me about her.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
He watched her hesitate. She was a gossip, but she probably didn’t want to betray David’s privacy. He could see the wheels turning in her mind over how to choose her words. “Well, the kind of disease she died from is pretty brutal. It isn’t usually quick, and watching someone you love deteriorate like that is really traumatic. Plus, it’s hereditary. David’s been tested every couple of years for it and always come up clean, but I think he’s scared of passing it on.”   
  
Max watched her expression, halfway through texting his friends back that he was alive. “David could be sick?”   
  
“If he had it, you’d have killed him already, and that’s if he made it out of the house to even work at camp. David’s fine, Max, he’s crazy healthy. He doesn’t even drink caffeine, it’s unholy.”   
  
He sent the texts and set the phone aside, his hands heavy with dread. He felt like he had pushed David too far this time, prodding him about a clearly devastating loss. It wasn’t fair that he just assumed David didn’t have baggage; everyone in the world did, he was no exception. “He’s pissed at me.”   
  
“He is not pissed. He feels terrible he lost his temper.”   
  
“Pfft,  _ that  _ was losing his temper?” Max deflected, but the look she gave him took the venom out of it right away. She wasn’t buying it. “Fine. You should probably get out of here. I’ll be fine.”   
  
“Are you kidding? This is my chance to force you to watch my shows. I brought DVD’s, and that T.V is functional.”   
  
Max threw his hands up, fingers tangling in his hair and grimacing. “NoooOO!”  _ Worst nightmare. This is worse. _   
  
__________________________________________________________________   
  
This became the routine for days. Gwen and David traded off, bringing him books or things to watch, sitting with him and keeping him company. Most of the time, he slept when they were gone. But when he woke up from the nightmares, he curled under under the quilt with his bear and tried to pretend they were there with him. He’d never admit to it. But when they were around, it was easier for him to remember where he was; some place his parents weren’t. He and David never talked about the family stuff again, but the tension fizzled out and they got back to their old back and forth. Max’s energy returned at one point and he was able to give shit like a pro again.   
  
But then the day came. He got cleared by the doctor, a follow up scheduled for the following week, and he was finally allowed to leave. As Dr. Herrera went over how to take care of him back at camp with David, what to look out for, he just kept pacing back and forth behind him, holding his backpack straps. “Can we  _ go? _ ” he demanded, turning around.   
  
David took the notes from the doctor and got his car keys out of his pocket, laughing a little. “Yes, we’re going. You’re pretty excited to go back to camp, huh, Max?”   
  
_ “Ican’thearyou,I’mwalkingaway!” _   
  
And he was, making a beeline for the exit into the parking lot, David on his heels. “Wait, you don’t know where we’re parked!”   
  
_ Just look for the station wagon begging to be put out of its misery _ . But the hospital parking lot was a lot bigger than he expected. He hadn’t really been conscious enough when he was brought there to notice it at the time. He lingered outside the doors, taking a minute just to breathe deeply as the breeze picked up, buffeting his hoodie sleeves. Oregon pines and mountain air; a huge improvement to the clinical smell he’d grown used to in the last week. For the first time, he truly appreciated the fresh air he couldn’t get back in the city and the sunshine in his face. 

David caught up with him, and the station wagon beeped distantly as he hit the unlock button. He didn’t say anything, walking and reading the papers given to him at the same time, but he did tap Max’s arm as he went by, encouraging him to follow. The ten year old fell into step beside him, glancing at the rolled up quilt under his arm. He’d grown a little fond of it during his hospital stay. The nurses had offered to wash it, but he declined; it smelled like cabins and camp, and when he slept, that aroma helped shield him from bad memories. “What’s a Dara knot?”

David looked down at the bundle, stopping as he opened the back door for Max. “Hm? Oh, you mean the blanket? It’s an old Celtic symbol. It symbolizes the roots of an oak tree. Oak trees pretty honored back in Ireland and Scotland, Greece, lots of places. Means something different everywhere.”

“You’re Scottish, right?”

“Scottish and Swedish.”

“So, a white guy.”

David let out a  _ very  _ patient sigh, “Sure.”

“What does it mean in Scotland?” Max tossed his stuff into the back seat and climbed in, putting on his seat belt. David dropped the rolled quilt onto his lap and didn’t answer him until he was in the driver's seat. “Strength, friendship, leadership, wisdom...Being steadfast through hard times. Strong roots so you can grow tall.”

_ Suits him _ . “Have you ever been to Scotland?”

“One time. And France, too, if you remember. Have you ever traveled, Max?”

“Uh...Mom took me to India when I was, like, one. I don’t remember it. I think she tried to have my grandparents meet me, but they wouldn’t see her.”

“You’ve never met your grandma and granda?”

“Are you trying to say grandad? Or grandpa?”

David started the car and circled out of the lot, turning onto the main road. “Lot of Scots say da instead of dad, hence granda. It’s what mine wanted to be called. He was born and raised there.”

“...Do you want to talk about him?” Max asked carefully, finally breaching the touchy subject. He saw David tap his long fingers on the wheel anxiously, which was unlike him. He did notice for the first time his knuckles had a few white, subtle scars here and there. Nothing too noticeable unless you looked hard enough.  _ Weird _ . “You can ask two questions. Nothing mean.” David said finally.

“Is he still alive?” Max jumped on the chance, seizing the opportunity. So David wasn’t pissed after all, like Gwen said. 

“Sure is. He has a cabin off the west of town in the forest, built it himself when he came from Scotland with his parents.”

Max thought over his second question, trying to obey the nothing mean rule but it was harder than he thought. He didn’t really always know how things sounded when he said them. He could mean something perfectly innocent, but sound like a jerk. “Are you...I dunno, close? Like, he was nice to you growing up?”

He felt the car slowing down a bit as David thought over his answer, and his neck prickled at how he hesitated for so long. “He was nice,” David said quietly. “He took me in when my mom died, raised me and put me through school and all. But he could be very strict and stubborn. He had high expectations of me and wanted me to do certain things with me life. He also kept a secret and when I found it out, well, we fought.”   
  
“What was the secret?”   
  
“I said two, Max.”   
  
“Sorry…”   
  
“It’s-- alright. I’ll tell you.”   
  
Max sat forward in his seat, surprised but he honestly really wanted to know. Even if it was going to be depressing.    
  
“My dad left when I was two. He tried to get in touch with me later on after Mom died, but granda hid it from me.”

  
“That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah. It is fucked up.”

Max went silent in shock, before he burst out laughing. That was two, maybe three times David had ever dropped the f bomb around him. He was almost a little proud and he heard him chuckling along, as he turned on the radio. The car filled with gently playing acoustic music. Max had no idea who the artist was, but...he kind of liked it.

_ Where the road is dark and the seed is sowed _

_ Where the gun is cocked and the bullet's cold _

_ Where the miles are marked in the blood and gold _

_ I'll meet you further on up the road... _

“Who is this?” He asked, leaning his head against the window. 

“Are you kidding, Max? You’ve  _ never _ heard Johnny Cash?” David exclaimed. Max thought he was overdoing it, but that was David. 

“I assume he’s primarily for an elderly audience?”

“I’m only twenty four!”

“Uh huh. He’s  _ okay _ .” Max didn’t listen to music much at all, and lacked an appreciation for it. But the low guitar beat and lulling, gravely voice of some grizzled sounding old man singing about whatever existential crisis he had was pretty cool. Along the road, he saw one of the many public parks around Sleepy Peak. A large pond with picnic tables arranged around it, where families were renting canoes and barbecuing, trees lining the entrance. At the far edge of the water, there were a few willow trees bordering it, their tendrils swaying in the wind. 

“David?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m...I’m sorry about your mom. And I’m sorry I was shitty to you about it. It’s your choice to talk about her. I shouldn’t have—“

“Max,” he heard a slight break in David’s voice. But no anger like he’d expected. “I know you weren’t trying to be hurtful, it’s okay. I was never mad at you.” 

“...But you seemed pretty pissed off. You even yelled.” Max mumbled it, as he pulled the collar of his hoodie up over his face. An anxious habit he didn’t do as often as he used to, but it happened every so often. 

“And I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry. It is never okay for me to snap at you. I was wrong, Max.”

He’d never hear that from  _ his _ parents. Max slowly lowered his collar back down and rested his hands normally on his lap, the anxiety receding like a bad storm. “I think— I think that your mom would be proud of you. You’re helping people, too.” 

David was quiet for so long that Max thought maybe he broke him by being genuinely kind for once. It was too big of a shock, his heart couldn’t take it or something. “David?”

“Whoops, sorry. I’m just a little surprised is all. That was a really nice thing to say, Max, thank you.”

“I can be nice sometimes, shitheel!”

“There he is,” David laughed and Max kicked the back of his seat as hard as he could manage. His toe hurt a little after, but he was satisfied. 

They didn’t say anything else for the drive. David turned up the radio, and Max could hear him quietly singing along. Not his usual cheery campfire song voice, but something more relaxed and natural. It was kind of nice, soothing even. If he sang like that, maybe he wouldn’t be so goddamn annoying. 

He knew everything would return to normal when he got back to camp. He’d clam up again and go back to his routine. No more being doted on by people contractually obligated to do so, and then some. He felt a mixture of sadness and relief. He wanted that sheltering distance between him and others always, but it had been nice to be looked after. To get a hug from Gwen and his tears acknowledged, his well being out first by David, talking with them normally without the combative bullshit he spewed mechanically to drive people away before they could learn he wasn’t worth sticking around for. It had been new and unfamiliar, and anything in those categories sent Max running. He didn’t want to get attached when it only ended badly. And if he did get attached, he would start to think about how he treated them and he wasn’t about that.

When summer ended, so would this. Even if they did care like they promised they did (and he almost believed it,  _ hoped _ he could believe it), they would have to send him away. There was no guarantee he would ever come back to Camp. He would have no bed to climb into when he was hurt or sick or scared, no one to put bandaids on his knees, no one to talk him down from his stupid ready episodes that came and went as they pleaded. He’d be alone again. 

But until then, he had this hour long car ride. He had this song that David knew by heart, this soft quilt that he unfolded over his legs and all the trees to watch as they went by. He would try his best to commit it to memory. 

_ “When you're weary, feeling small _

_ When tears are in your eyes, I'll dry them all _

_ I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough _

_ And friends just can't be found _

_ Like a bridge over troubled water _

_ I will lay me down _

_ Like a bridge over troubled water _

_ I will lay me down.” _

David slowed to a stop at the camp entrance and turned around in his seat to look at Max. “Okay, we made it in one piece. I know things are going to go back to normal when you get out, but don’t forget, if you start feeling sick again, Gwen and I are here, always. Whenever you need us.”

Max knew he was being honest. If David could be there always, he could be but he didn’t think his counselor was taking into account that promise ran out when summer did. He didn’t say anything as he tried to hand the blanket back to David, the man just shook his head with that soft, calm smile. “Why don’t you hold onto it for a while?”

“For real?”

“Yep. I’m a little old for a blankie, I think.”

“It is not a blankie, don’t call it that or you can have the stupid thing back.” 

David laughed, as he turned off the car and began to open the door. “Okay, okay. We made it back. You can skedaddle now, you’re free at last...until your follow up appointment.”

Max shoved the quilt into his backpack, and hurried out of the car, making a beeline for the mess hall where he was sure his friends would be until he stopped, and looked back at where David meandered towards the counselor cabin. David stopped, then raised a hand in a little wave. A silent way of saying  _ I’m here. It’s okay _ . 

Max waved back, just once, before he turned it to a middle finger just to make sure David didn’t get  _ too  _ sentimental. There were limits to this. 

But the limits had a few exceptions now. And he was okay with that. 


End file.
